


Decadent

by lockheed_london



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockheed_london/pseuds/lockheed_london
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas spends the night at Martin’s flat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decadent

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betaed, so any comments re: typos are much appreciated.

Douglas never intended to spend the night at Martin’s house. To date, all their nights together had been either in various hotel rooms, or in the large, comfortable expanse of Douglas’ double bed, which was just the way he liked it. Occasionally Martin would go back to his own place, if he had a job with the van that started early or finished late, but such instances were getting steadily fewer and farther between.

Nevertheless it happened one day that – after finishing the post-landing checks – Martin’s phone chirped with a voicemail when he turned it on, and as Martin dialled the number and listened he grew quiet and tense.

‘What is it?’ Douglas asked as Martin hung up and immediately started re-dialling.

‘It’s my house.’ Martin looked shocked. ‘We’ve been burgled.’

‘ _What_?’

But Martin was already speaking to someone in a low, urgent tone and Douglas’ question went unheeded. In his day it wouldn’t have been worth robbing a student house, since all the intruder would have got for their pains was a half-broken old telly and some empty takeaway boxes. These days, though, he supposed that students had iPods and laptops and stereos and goodness knows what else.

‘What did they take?’ he asked, when Martin hung up.

‘Nothing too terrible,’ Martin said. ‘The students are home for the holidays and they tend to take most of their valuables with them, so it’s not much at all. The TV, the DVD player… I don’t know why they bothered, to be honest, it doesn’t even work properly.’

‘Well, when you’re in a hurry then I imagine you’re not too particular about these things,’ Douglas said. ‘And what about your room?’

‘Me?’ Martin glanced at him, surprised, before his mouth twisted in a bitter half-smile. ‘Nothing. There’s nothing much to take, anyway, unless they want a load of dog-eared old flight manuals.’

Martin was so proud that it was easy to forget, sometimes, just how very little he had.

‘At least there’s that,’ Douglas said, trying to make the best of it. ‘Come on, let’s stop by your house to check your things and then come back to my place for the night. I could even be persuaded to make beef bourguignon, for which I know you have a particular – what is it?’

For Martin was shaking his head already, and at Douglas’ raised eyebrows he said: ‘They kicked our front door in so there’s no way of locking it; the landlord says that he’s got a bloke coming tomorrow to replace it but for tonight someone needs to spend the night in the house.’ Martin shrugged. ‘Since none of the students are here then I’ll have to do it.’

Douglas frowned, disgruntled. ‘Why can’t he do it? It’s his property, after all.’

‘He’s got kids, he needs to get home.’ Martin unfastened his seatbelt with a sigh and started to gather his things. ‘It’s fine, really. These things happen. Although it’s a shame to miss your cooking.’

‘Damn right it is,’ Douglas said tartly. ‘Student kitchens are a health hazard, I’m not cooking there.’ He pulled his jacket on. ‘Oh fine, then. But I’m going to have to insist on dropping by my flat on the way to your house, I’m not spending the night there with only my uniform, and – what is it now?’

Martin was looking at him in surprise. ‘You’re… you want to… come over?’

‘Martin,’ Douglas began impatiently, ‘if you think I’m going to leave you to spend the night alone in a house with no front door then you’re a bloody idiot.’

‘I’d be fine on my own,’ Martin protested, with a typical flare of independence.

Douglas raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you not want me to come?’

‘No, I do!’ Martin exclaimed. ‘I do, I just, well, don’t feel like you _have_ to, I mean–’

‘Come on,’ Douglas said, cutting through Martin’s incoherence. ‘There’s a nice Indian place on the way from my flat to your house. Takeaway isn’t quite adequate consolation for not having a front door any more, but it’s a start.’

***

Several hours later, Douglas sat on the edge of Martin’s bed and looked around curiously while Martin engaged in the sort of faux-casual, frantic tidying performed by people with unexpected guests.

‘I hadn’t planned for us to…’ Martin said distractedly, throwing a pair of socks into his laundry basket. ‘I mean, we don’t usually – or _ever_ , in fact – and I–’

‘It’s fine’ Douglas reached out and snagged a fold of Martin’s shirt, drawing him close, and Martin gave in to the hint and came to stand between Douglas’ knees. ‘I rather like it.’

Martin’s attic was small but bright, nothing like the dingy hovel Douglas had been expecting. The skylights let in the evening sun, and with the walls decorated in soft yellow and white the little room fairly glowed.

‘I did it myself,’ Martin said. ‘The landlord said he’d buy the paint if I made a decent job of it, and it’s small enough that it was done in an afternoon.’

‘Mmm.’ Douglas tangled his fingers in Martin’s shirtfront, coaxing him down until he was close enough to kiss. Martin still tasted faintly of the lamb balti he’d had for dinner, and he licked his lips when Douglas drew back, giving a last gentle suck to his lower lip. ‘What do you say to an early night? It’s been rather an eventful day, all things considered.’

‘Yes.’ Martin blinked, looking gratifyingly heavy-lidded. ‘That sounds good. Let me just get a… um…’

He drew back and Douglas let him go, watching as Martin disappeared in the direction of the bathroom to fetch a damp washcloth and towel. Experience had shown that neither of them was especially keen to get out of bed in the middle of post-coital lassitude to clean up, but Douglas wondered how it could be that Martin could engage in enthusiastic sex on a regular basis but still be rendered inarticulate by such a comparatively innocent act of preparation.

Speaking of preparation…

Douglas tugged open the top drawer of Martin’s bedside table to check for supplies: he didn’t know what Martin was in the mood for but he didn’t want to get halfway and then have to stop because of a lack of necessary items. The first drawer held only tissues and some small change, but in the second drawer down Douglas had more success.

‘Bingo,’ he muttered, spotting a half-empty tube of lubricant and a box of condoms. He tugged them to the front of the drawer, ready to reach over and grab at the crucial moment, but the movement dislodged something and he pulled the drawer open further to have a look.

The something turned out to be perhaps the last thing Douglas had expected Martin to own: a sex toy.

It was a plug; about four inches long in total, it was slightly thicker than one of Douglas’ fingers but not quite as broad as two of them, and had a subtle curve to it that meant that it would push up against just the right spot inside its owner. The thing was made of a soft, flexible silicone that yielded slightly to the touch, and which Douglas guessed would warm quickly to Martin’s body heat.

God, _Martin_.

The thought of Martin, lying on his back with legs spread and fingering himself open as a prelude to the plug, made heat bloom low in Douglas’ stomach and he folded the toy into his fist possessively, greedily.

He’d sat there too long; no sooner had his hand closed around the toy than Martin re-entered, trying and failing to look casual about the fact that he was carrying supplies to clean them both up after the sex they were so clearly about to have.

‘Here,’ Martin said, holding them bundled awkwardly in front of him. ‘What have you been up to? You look all… flushed.’

By way of reply Douglas merely opened his hand to display his find, and watched as Martin reddened deeply.

‘Oh. That’s, um…’ Martin shifted from foot to foot. ‘That’s a. Um. Well, it’s a–’

‘ _Martin_.’ Douglas raised an eyebrow pointedly. ‘I _know_ what it is.’

‘I… right.’

Douglas watched Martin bite his lip and refrained from pointing out that, in all likelihood, he’d known and been familiar with them while Martin was still working up the courage to speak to the first girl he’d fancied. Or boy; he’d never got around to asking how old Martin had been when he’d realised his preferences. He held his tongue, though: Martin might not think that the age difference between them amounted to much but there were moments – such as now, for instance – when Douglas was reminded all too sharply of it.

‘Look,’ Martin said in a rush, his blush spreading down to his throat, ‘I know it’s an extravagance but you don’t understand, I bought it months ago and I’d had a horrible, _awful_ week and I just wanted to have _something_ that wasn’t, well, functional and sensible and dull. I wanted something luxurious, something decadent, just for _once_ –’

‘You certainly don’t have to justify it to me,’ Douglas exclaimed. ‘Good God, quite the reverse.’ He reached for Martin who slowly came within arm’s length, allowing Douglas to hook his fingers into Martin’s belt loops and draw him close. ‘I think it’s marvellous.’

‘Oh,’ said Martin slowly. ‘Okay.’

‘Mmm.’ Douglas glanced down at the toy. It was firm underneath its initial softness, with just enough resistance that Martin certainly wouldn’t be able to forget for a moment that he was wearing it.

‘You know,’ he purred, reaching up to flick open Martin’s shirt buttons one by one, and ignoring the bundled towel that Martin was still clutching in front of him like a makeshift chastity device, ‘I’d love to watch you playing with it sometime.’

‘What? No!’ Martin dropped towel and washcloth on the floor by the bed and all but snatched the toy out of Douglas’ hand, dropping it back into the drawer and shoving it closed abruptly.

Douglas looked at him, dryly amused. ‘It’s only a sex toy, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.’

‘I’m not embarrassed!’

Martin’s face was positively scarlet now, and in lieu of an answer Douglas gently drew open the loosened halves of his shirt to press a lingering kiss to his stomach. Few things were a bigger mood killer than embarrassment, and so Douglas concentrated instead on touching Martin, stroking each bit of exposed skin and peeling him out of his clothes.

Martin’s bed was smaller than Douglas was used to but he was nothing if not creative and resourceful, and by the time they were finished then Martin was flushed from another cause entirely, his skin glowing healthily, and Douglas was deeply thankful that the house was otherwise empty.

‘Gorgeous,’ Douglas rumbled, kissing the salt from Martin’s temple as he reached for the now-cold washcloth and pushed it between Martin’s thighs, starting to wipe away the mess.

Martin had only reached for the drawer partway through to fish out the tube of lubricant, frantic with lust, and now Douglas could just glimpse the edge of the toy through the gap of the partly open drawer.

_Patience_ , he told himself, as Martin flinched slightly at the chill of the damp cloth on overheated skin. _Rome wasn’t built in a day._

***

Douglas could say many things about life with Martin – the occasional one not entirely complimentary, when it was the end of a long day – but one thing that it certainly _wasn’t_ was dull, and consequently after a week of irate airfield managers, hen parties going to Italy, and diversions to obscure towns in the middle of rural France, he’d all but forgotten about the toy tucked unobtrusively in Martin’s nightstand.

A few weeks later Martin was oddly restless when he was at Douglas’ house for dinner, distractedly chopping twice the amount of vegetables actually needed and responding only belatedly to Douglas’ questions about this and that. It was clear that he had something on his mind but Douglas didn't press the matter, having learnt that in these cases that Martin would bring it up when he felt it was the right moment.

However, he wasn’t expecting the moment to be as soon as they’d stepped into the bedroom for the night. Douglas was kissing the side of Martin’s neck and sliding his hands up under Martin’s T-shirt when Martin suddenly took over, grabbing the hem of his T-shirt and tugging it up and off. Douglas leaned back quickly to avoid getting an elbow to the face, and once Martin was free he looked at Douglas, rumpled but determined, and said ‘So, um. I had an idea.’

‘Go on,’ Douglas said, resting his hands on Martin’s hips in a bid to stop him looking quite so wound up. ‘Let’s hear it.’

Instead of answering Martin pulled away and left the room, and before Douglas could make up his mind whether to follow he reappeared clutching something in his hands.

‘I thought that… well, you said you were interested, so…’ Martin opened his fingers slightly, just enough for Douglas to see what he was holding: the toy from his nightstand. ‘I mean, we don’t have to, it’s just a thought, if you’ve changed your mind then–’

Martin cut himself off when Douglas crossed the room to pull him into an enthusiastic kiss, wrapping his arms around him and crushing the toy between them.

‘So that’s a yes?’ Martin said, smiling when Douglas finally let him go.

‘Yes,’ Douglas said. ‘That’s yes and yes and a hundred times yes. Let me see it.’

Martin opened his hands and Douglas picked the toy out of his grip. It was just as he’d remembered it, and he thought of watching Martin with it made blood rush to his groin.

‘I’ll just go and wash this for you,’ Douglas said, stroking a hand down Martin’s bare side and watching gooseflesh rise in his wake. ‘I’ll be right back.’

‘It’s _clean_ ,’ Martin protested, slightly too loudly. ‘Oh God, I wouldn’t just use it and then not–’

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t.’ Douglas’ hand found Martin’s waistband and slid forward to tug at his belt buckle. ‘But I imagine you’ve just carried this over here loose in your backpack without wrapping it up in anything, yes?’

Martin nodded, distracted by Douglas’ fingers as they deftly slid the leather out of his belt loops and tugged it back far enough to release the metal tongue of the buckle.

‘Well then.’ Douglas pressed another kiss to the corner of Martin’s mouth. ‘I’ll be right back.’

He took it into the bathroom and ran it under the tap, using the hand soap by the sink and rinsing it thoroughly before turning the temperature up and letting it run for a couple of minutes, warming it to something approaching body temperature.

Back in the bedroom Martin was perched on the edge of the bed, still partly dressed. He’d pulled the duvet back and was picking at a wrinkle in the under sheet, and he looked up at Douglas’ approach.

‘Here.’ Douglas set the toy down on the nightstand and took Martin’s hand to draw him to his feet. ‘Let’s get you out of these.’

He kissed Martin as he loosened the fly of his jeans, and broke away to slide them and his thin cotton boxers over his hips and down his legs. Martin’s cock, Douglas noticed, was half-hard already, obviously turned on by the idea of doing this, and he knelt down to tug the bundle of clothing off his feet and nuzzled a kiss against Martin’s hipbone as he did so.

‘There you go,’ he said, standing. Martin blinked at him, flushed and lips parted. ‘Now why don’t you get on the bed, and I’ll be over here.’

So saying, he backed away to the chair in the corner of his bedroom and sat down. His shirt was already mostly open, thanks to Martin’s deft fingers, and he loosened his trousers as he sat down: he was already hard enough that they were starting to get uncomfortable.

‘I… right.’ Martin bit his lip, with the merest flash of uncertainty, but lay down and stretched out on the bed before Douglas could go to him. ‘Okay then.’

He’d settled with his feet planted flat on the bed, knees raised and pressed together in an unconscious display of shyness. It wasn’t as though he had any modesty left to preserve where Douglas was concerned but Douglas shifted in his chair and stayed silent until Martin dropped a hand to his groin and started to touch himself.

After several minutes spent watching the tantalisingly rhythmic movements of Martin’s right arm but unable to see anything more, Douglas cleared his throat and suggested gently ‘Why don’t you put your legs down? I’d like to be able to see more of you.’

Martin’s eyes were tightly closed, and at this he swallowed but slowly slid a leg down until it was resting flat on the bed and Douglas could see Martin’s hand holding his cock.

If anything, Martin looked like he’d grown _less_ excited about the idea now that he’d started doing it, and Douglas murmured encouragingly ‘That’s it, you look gorgeous like this. How does it feel?’

‘Good.’

But Martin’s voice lacked conviction and his body was telling a different story, and so Douglas pressed ‘What do you need?’

‘Um.’ Martin drew his leg back up to press his knees together again and opened his eyes, his hand ceasing its movement. He looked over at Douglas, biting his lip uncertainly.

‘Go on,’ Douglas said. He felt a giddy mix of lust – at the sight of Martin lying there naked with one hand shoved between his legs – and protectiveness, given the awkward way he seemed to be holding back words that wanted to spill out.

‘Could you maybe… um, can you come here?’ Martin said, looking slightly lost. ‘I can’t… you’re too far away over there; it feels like it’s a test, or something.’

Almost as soon as Martin had finished speaking Douglas was at the bedside; he sat and leaned down to kiss Martin warmly.

‘Better?’

‘Yes.’ Martin had let go of himself to grip Douglas’ arm and shirtfront, and now he swept his hand over the expanse of mattress next to him. ‘Lie down next to me? And take your clothes off. Please.’

‘Gladly.’

Douglas stood and quickly rid himself of shirt, trousers and underwear, before climbing onto the bed to lie down next to Martin. He had to climb across him, leaving Martin with unobstructed access to the nightstand and its contents when he was ready for them, and he settled down and propped himself up on one elbow to look down into Martin’s face.

‘Hello,’ he murmured, and Martin smiled.

‘Hello.’

Douglas dipped his head for a long, slow kiss, and Martin lifted his chin to meet him and curled his fingers into the hair at Douglas’ nape, holding him in place.

‘How’s this?’ Douglas said, when they eventually broke apart.

‘Good.’

One of Martin’s hands had crept up to his chest, rubbing and plucking restlessly at a nipple, and he stopped when he saw Douglas watching.

‘No, no, keep going.’ Douglas kissed Martin again, briefly. ‘You were right, this is much better than me sitting all the way over there.’

‘Mmm.’ Martin licked his lips, his fingers starting to move again, and Douglas glanced down Martin’s body to see that his cock was starting to flush and thicken against his thigh. Martin shifted slightly under Douglas’ scrutiny, and Douglas looked back at his face to find Martin watching him with eyes gone heavy-lidded and dark. Douglas kissed him again, conscious of the tiny movements of Martin’s arm against his chest, and finally Martin inhaled deeply through his nose and slid his hand down. He brushed the backs of his fingers down his stomach and then, when Douglas was almost holding his breath with anticipation, he shifted his hand lower to stroke the insides of his thighs. Martin ran the tips of his fingers over them and then repeated the gesture with the faintest scratch of fingernails, sensitising the skin.

‘I might have known you’d want to draw it out,’ Douglas rumbled into Martin’s ear, making him exhale a tiny noise. ‘I’ve seen how slowly you eat your desserts.’

Martin gave a hitching, half-voiced sigh and moved a little; a slow, sinuous roll of hips that made arousal pulse hard through Douglas.

‘I used to imagine it was you,’ Martin murmured, so soft that Douglas almost didn't catch it. 'And I thought that you'd want to tease me, make me work for it.'

'You thought correctly,' Douglas said roughly. Martin's cock was almost fully hard now, the foreskin pulled most of the way back from the head, flushed with blood. 'God, you're lovely like this.'

'Kiss me,' Martin requested, and Douglas dipped his head at once to comply. He kissed Martin slowly, thoroughly, opening his mouth with his tongue to lick at Martin's teeth, and relished the small noise Martin gave. Glancing down, he saw that Martin had wrapped a hand around himself to pull slowly, almost lazily at his erection.

'Let me watch you,' Douglas said, and leaned up when Martin nodded.

Martin was beautiful like this: his eyes closed and his face and throat flushed with arousal, and Douglas' eyes traced the long lines of his torso down to where his cock pushed through the tight grip of his fingers. As he watched, Martin brought a hand up to his mouth and sucked two fingers inside, wetting them thoroughly before reaching down.

'Tell me you aren't going to finger yourself with only a bit of spit,' Douglas said.

His voice sounded unsteady to his ears, and Martin opened his eyes to look at him. Douglas didn't know what his face was doing, but it made the corners of Martin's mouth turn up in a wicked little smirk. It vanished the next instant, however, and Douglas looked back down to see that Martin had touched two wet fingertips to the exposed head of his cock, and was smoothing saliva and pre-come around in tiny, maddening little circles while his other hand gripped the base of his shaft tightly: not stroking, just holding.

'I used to pretend this was your tongue,' Martin said thickly. His words were heavy and slow with desire, like molten honey on warm bread. He shifted, arched a little. 'That you were holding me steady and just teasing me with your tongue before sucking me.'

'Really.' Douglas' brain had been turned to jelly; he was so hard he _ached_ and he reached down to stroke himself a couple of times.

'Mmm.' Martin shifted, reaching down and back, and the muscles of his chest and shoulder stood out in sharp relief as he flexed and strained to reach. 'Douglas, I can't... will you-'

'Yes,' Douglas said at once. 'Whatever it is, the answer's yes. What do you need?'

Despite the fact that this had been his idea he was ready to call the whole thing off and fuck Martin until he came. Or finger him, or suck him, or whatever Martin decided he wanted, and how on earth had Douglas thought even for a _moment_ that he might be the one in control when Martin was lying there like that, all flushed and aroused and touching himself?

‘Lubricant,’ Martin said. He let go of his cock and fumbled for the nightstand. ‘I need…’

‘Let me.’

Douglas leaned over Martin, taking advantage of their positions to briefly rest his weight on Martin, and greedily absorbing Martin’s catch of breath and the way he arched up against Douglas. He tugged open the drawer of the nightstand and retrieved the small bottle.

‘Here.’ Douglas flipped open the lid as Martin inhaled sharply: he’d found that by now Martin had an almost Pavlovian response to the sound of the bottle being opened. ‘Give me your hand.’

Martin obediently held out his right hand for Douglas to squeeze a generous dollop of lubricant into it, and Douglas bit his lip as Martin smeared it around in his palm and used it to slick the first two fingers of his left hand.

‘Better?’ he asked as Martin reached back down.

Martin’s shoulder muscles flexed and his legs brushed against Douglas’ as he shifted to spread them wider.

‘Better,’ Martin said – almost moaned – and the slow, rhythmic flexing of his right arm started up again. ‘Yes. Except that I can’t… I can’t quite…’

His eyes fluttered shut and he caught his lip in his teeth as he squirmed, curling his hips up and stretching to reach further inside himself.

‘Oh Christ,’ Douglas groaned. He quickly squeezed more lubricant out into his palm and reached down to wrap his hand around himself. The head of his cock was already wet with pre-come, and he wiped his thumb over it roughly to slick it along his shaft. He gasped a little in relief, but stopped when Martin shifted position again.

‘Do you want a pillow?’ Douglas said, already reaching for the one under his head. ‘Something to lift your hips up, and make it easier?’

Martin shook his head, his hair whispering against the pillow.

‘No, I just…’ He dug his heels into the mattress, gasping a little. ‘Oh God, pass it to me. Now.’

Douglas leaned over again to grab the toy, letting his cock push against Martin’s thigh and jumping slightly when Martin twisted his head to bury his face in Douglas’ shoulder and inhale.

‘I love the way you smell,’ Martin confided to him breathlessly. ‘Is that a weird thing to say? It’s true, though.’

Douglas shook his head. ‘Pheromones. And conditioned associations. And–’

God knew what else he would have found to say, for at that moment Martin moaned loudly, interrupting him, and panted, ‘Get it ready for me.’ He dragged in a shaky breath, and added ‘Hurry.’

With clumsy fingers Douglas opened the small bottle and dribbled some lubricant into his palm, working it between his fingers and then wrapping his hand around the toy to ensure that it was evenly coated. He kissed Martin, whose lips were dry from panting, and said softly ‘It’s here. When you’re ready for–’

‘Put it in me,’ Martin moaned, taking his hand away and spreading his legs wider. He gripped his thigh, hard enough that his nail beds paled, and groaned, ‘Douglas please, now, put it in me.’

‘Alright, alright.’ Douglas leaned in to kiss him, sliding one hand under Martin’s head to cradle the curve of his skull while the other reached down between his splayed thighs. He stroked the back of his wrist along the inside of Martin’s thigh, making Martin lift a knee to brace his foot on the bed and push up against Douglas’ forearm.

‘God, just look at you,’ Douglas said, mouth dry and heart pounding. ‘Gorgeous.’

He slid his fingers down, searching for the right place; Martin’s hole was slick and hot, and when Douglas pushed a fingertip inside his hips writhed.

‘Here you go.’ Douglas nudged the tip of the toy against Martin’s body. ‘ _Breathe_ , now.’

Martin seemed as though he needed the reminder; his breathing had deteriorated into irregular gulps, and as Douglas gently but firmly slid the toy into him he tensed and seemed to stop breathing altogether.

‘Alright?’ Douglas kissed Martin’s forehead, and paused. ‘Do you want me to stop and take it out?’

‘ _No_ ’ Martin grabbed Douglas’ forearm, his face screwed up in a look that could have been pain or ecstasy. ‘Go on; oh God, don’t stop.’

Reassured, Douglas continued pushing at the toy until it was fully seated and Martin apparently couldn’t keep his hips still. When Douglas took his hands away and murmured ‘There you are,’ Martin let go of his cock to hook his hands under his thighs and start grinding his arse down against the bed.

‘Talk to me,’ Douglas said, after a few minutes of watching Martin pant and squirm with his nails digging into his thighs and his cock lying rigid and untouched on his stomach.

‘You… I…’ Martin gasped. He moaned and reached down to take hold of himself, shoving his other hand down between his thighs to rock the base of the plug. ‘Oh God, I used to pretend this was your fingers, I used to close my eyes and imagine that you would want to finger me until I begged to come. _Oh_.’

He arched up with a little cry as his forearm jerked, and Douglas guessed that he’d just pushed particularly hard against the base of the plug, driving it up against his prostate.

‘Christ, let me watch,’ he growled, shifting quickly until he knelt between Martin’s legs. He gripped a bony ankle in each hand, encouraging Martin to spread his legs farther, and groaned at the sight of the base of the plug nestled between Martin’s buttocks, with his fingers pushing and rocking restlessly at the base.

‘Let me touch you,’ he said, but Martin shook his head.

‘ _Please_ ,’ he insisted, uncaring of the fact that he was openly begging now, and Martin dragged open his eyes to meet Douglas’ gaze.

‘You said…’ Martin licked his lips and tried again. ‘You said you wanted to watch.’

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Douglas growled. This close he could smell Martin’s arousal: the heady mix of musk and fresh sweat and the scent that was Martin’s own. ‘I don’t think watching is quite going to cut it any more.’

Martin’s eyes slid closed again but his mouth turned up in a wicked smile.

‘Here.’ He traced a circle around his right nipple with his thumb. ‘You can touch me here.’

Douglas didn’t wait to be told twice; he slid up the bed to lie beside Martin and cover his nipple with his mouth, uncaring of Martin’s fingers winding too tightly into the hair at the back of his head.

‘Oh God,’ Martin groaned. The movements of his right arm had grown faster and more purposeful, racing towards his climax, and Douglas bracketed his nipple between thumb and forefinger, licking and teasing and nibbling at it until it had tightened under his mouth and Martin was almost yanking at his hair in the midst of his pleasure.

‘Douglas,’ Martin said suddenly. ‘Oh _Douglas_.’

Douglas lifted his head, thinking that Martin wanted something, but he saw that Martin’s eyes were squeezed shut, clearly absorbed in the fantasy he was spinning in his head.

‘Go on,’ Douglas said. He slid the rest of the way up the bed and worked a hand between Martin’s hair and the pillow, cupping his head while his other hand found Martin’s nipple and rubbed his thumb steadily back and forth over it.

‘Oh God I’m going to come,’ Martin gasped. He flung his head back, baring his throat, and his strokes on his cock grew shorter and rougher. ‘Fuck… oh fuck…’

His knees drew up, heels bracing and slipping against the bed, and he grabbed his balls, rolling and pushing them up against the root of his cock. ‘Oh God, yes, almost… I… oh Christ, Douglas, oh God, I’m _coming_.’

The rest of his words were lost in a helpless cry as his cock jerked, spattering his come on his stomach and chest and even getting some on his collarbone, while he arched and shuddered through his pleasure.

At last Martin’s stuttering gasps turned into deeper, heaving gulps for air and Douglas took his hands away and reached down to grip himself tightly.

‘Martin,’ he gritted out, ‘please don’t take this as a reflection on my stamina, but I’m afraid I need to come _right now_.’

He started to work himself with short, brutal strokes, brisk and efficient, but before he could work up a rhythm Martin gripped his wrist.

‘You should fuck me,’ Martin said, blinking heavily at Douglas.

Douglas choked out a laugh. ‘I can’t. You’ve just come so you’ll be far too sensitive, and I’m far too close to last long enough.’

‘Which is precisely why you should do it now.’ Martin slid a hand down between his thighs to slowly draw the toy out of himself, shivering a little as he did so, and dropped it over the side of the bed. ‘Come on.’

He tugged at Douglas’ arm, clumsy and hazy with endorphins, and Douglas groaned as he allowed Martin to push and pull him into position.

‘You’ll tell me if it’s too much,’ he said, as Martin wound his legs around Douglas’ waist to nudge his heels in the small of his back.

‘Of course.’ Martin stretched his arms up over his head, lazy and sated, and gripped the headboard. ‘Come on.’

Douglas groaned as he started to push inside Martin, feeling Martin’s body opening around him while Martin’s eyes flickered closed and his lips parted.

He tried to be considerate, mindful of the fact that he’d just watched Martin have what looked like a fairly mind-blowing orgasm and that he was probably more than a little sensitive, but Martin gripped Douglas’ ribs with his knees and wound his fingers into Douglas’ hair, holding him steady while he muttered sweetly obscene things in Douglas’ ear, and it wasn’t long before Douglas folded forwards, resting his forehead on Martin’s shoulder as he groaned out his pleasure and relief.

Afterwards Douglas pulled out as gently as he could, soothing the quiver in Martin’s thighs by running his hands along them, and collapsed next to Martin to catch his breath.

‘So.’ Martin’s eyes were closed, an expression of almost beatific satisfaction on his face. He looked supremely well-shagged, and Douglas reached over to run a thumb along the smile line of his cheek, making it deepen as Martin grinned. ‘Was that as good as you were expecting?’

‘No,’ Douglas said, watching a wrinkle appear almost instantly between Martin’s brows, ‘in actual fact it wasn’t.’ Martin’s frown deepened. ‘It was infinitely better.’

‘Oh ha bloody ha,’ Martin grumbled, spoiling the effect by rolling over to mould his body against Douglas’, and Douglas instantly folded him into his arms and ran his fingers through Martin’s hair. ‘You and your ideas of fun.’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Martin was heavy and growing rapidly boneless against him, and Douglas hooked the duvet with his foot and flipped it up to cover them both. ‘I happen to think that some of them work out rather well. Wouldn’t you say?’

The only reply was for Martin to press closer against him, clearly settling in for the night, and Douglas smiled. It was all the reply that was needed.

**End**


End file.
